Seek and You Shall Find
by KeriboNu
Summary: Jareth has spent many a night keeping a close and precious vigil. But has it all been for naught? One-shot.


There was something surreal about frosty winter nights, something otherworldly and strikingly beautiful: how whispers of flurries danced in tandem with the breeze; how the full moon brought the snow-blanketed earth to an ethereal glow. The stillness of it was not at all disconcerting—it felt as though the world was at peace with itself, satisfied with what it had created.

Fitting neatly into this picturesque scene was a solitary barn owl resting comfortably atop a leafless maple. For the regular passersby, nothing would seem out-of-the-ordinary. But if one were to look up into that tree more often, they would wonder at the owl's peculiar attachment to that particular tree, that particular branch…

*****

Jareth revered the level of splendor he witnessed here, how this world was ever changing month-to-month, season-to-season. His world never experienced the awe-inspiring spectacle of leaves channeling the deepest of golds and scarlets in autumn, nor the renewal of Mother Nature in spring. No, his world was constant, riding on a sea of perpetual monotony.

That was why he constantly came to the Aboveground, he would tell himself—someone who so esteemed beauty had to take reprieve from such dullness.

But he was only fooling himself, for he knew, in the deep recesses of his heart, that it was all a pathetic excuse to explain to himself why he was where he was now: perched in a tree, stoically keeping watch on the dark-haired beauty beyond the window, the object of his affections, his great desire…

How many times had he come to watch her in this fashion? He had lost count, he ashamedly admitted. But it was never enough, just watching. Which is why he returned, day-after-day, week-after-week, _year-after-year_, hoping to see something to assure himself that this was not all for naught.

But he appreciated this time with her all the same, even if she did not recognize his presence. In all that time, he had learned much about her; her nuances, routines, habits. The way she constantly tucked a stray lock of her raven tresses behind her ear, how she incessantly nibbled her bottom lip as she contemplated the day's challenges, and her fidgeting with the poor page corners to whatever book she was perusing…

She utterly fascinated him. And he was _weak_ for allowing himself to become so entranced. _Bloody weak_. Although, now, that fact did not wound his ego as much as it once had.

On this particular night, Jareth again found himself keeping a close vigil, admiring the beauty that consumed him, from his usual perch outside her dorm window. Said branch afforded him a modest view of her desk, where she spent much of her evenings, he'd come to find.

She was fidgeting per usual, finding worthy expenditures for her hands by stroking her hair, spinning a pen between her fingers…

She appeared to be deep within whatever text she was reading, her body hunched over the desk in an uncomfortable fashion. Her discomfort was evident by the occasional, slow massaging of her neck and shoulders. Jareth looked on in disapproval. A woman of her elegance should not be sitting in such a manner. Besides, _he _should be the one comforting her, massaging her, urging the tension from her shoulders.

After several long minutes of focusing on one lone page, Jareth realized she was not as engrossed in her reading as she had led on.

He followed her eyes skyward as her body leaned back in her chair, seemingly losing herself to her thoughts. A small smile graced her lips, her eyes sparkling with the promise of dreams untold. It almost took Jareth's breath away. To him, she was the vision of loveliness.

But something about that smile unnerved him. What was causing her to smile in such a serene manner?—_who_ was? What do twenty-two-year-old women daydream about anyways?

A pang of jealously erupted in him.

Some worthless scoundrel;_ a boy…_

_Why should that surprise you? _Said that nuisance of a voice in his head. _A woman like her? She would have little trouble gaining the attentions of her male counter—_

_Shut up! _He commanded his subconscious. _What would she see in them anyways? She is above them in every sense. None are worthy of—_

He was wrenched from his internal rantings by the abrupt absence of his beloved from her desk. Entranced, he watched as she approached a small bookcase on the adjacent wall and pondered it for a moment. Slowly, she knelt and reached out her hand to grasp a familiar red leather-bound book from her collection. She hesitated, her fingers resting on the binding.

Jareth watched curiously, and with growing astonishment, as she brought the book back to her desk, sat down, and began to read.

He couldn't believe it. _After all this time…_

If owls could grin, he would have made a peculiar sight indeed.

_One day, Sarah, you'll find me again…if you look…_

******

A/N: I liked the idea of a pining Jareth, but one who has enough honor to allow Sarah to find her way back to him on her own. I don't see him really as a stalker, but more as one who's putting himself in a position to be recognized by Sarah if she were to decide seek him out.

This is my first foray back into fiction writing in quite some time. I'm getting myself warmed up with a drabble here and there, and eventually I hope to tackle a much longer story. I already have ideas floating about my head, hijacking my thoughts and imagination at _very_ inconvenient times. So stick around—there should be more to come!


End file.
